


Fitting a Shape That Won't Hold

by fourfreedoms



Category: Generation Kill
Genre: Alternate Universe - Vampire, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-25
Updated: 2011-07-25
Packaged: 2017-10-21 18:00:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,575
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/228030
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fourfreedoms/pseuds/fourfreedoms
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nate is ageless. Brad is human. Ray loves orange soda.</p><p>A vampire AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fitting a Shape That Won't Hold

Nate was turned when he was 21. "Back then that wasn't so young," he'd explained with an amused look on his face, his chin propped on his hand. His eyes flared neon blue as he reminisced, the same color they were when he fed or when he fucked. But it _was_ young.

Brad was 28, he'd fought in two wars, and watched more people die than he meant to and for all that Nate had lived through the rise and fall of governments, multiple global conflicts, and the loss of everybody he ever knew, Brad felt older than Nate. Nate did his best to disguise it -- close-cropped hair and sober-fitted suits, dry classical music in his stereo -- but he had a fresh-faced optimism that leaked out every pore. He would've been Brad's last candidate for an ageless immortal.

But when Nate fucked Brad it was a fruit of an entirely different tree. The way his hands mapped Brad's body, the way he spread Brad open -- stretched him wide around his cock, even when Brad swore he wouldn't enjoy it, but found himself nearly incoherent and desperate to come every single time -- and his utter impassivity in the face of it all.

"I need sex, just as human's do - a healthy outlet for pent up energy," he explained, answering a question Brad didn't ask. "But I don't crave it. Not anymore."

Brad shouldn't be offended. Nate had saved his life one dusty evening in the desert with his guts spilled out all over rough-packed sand and he hadn't asked for anything. He'd showed him the door afterward. It was Brad who came back. But he was hurt nevertheless. He didn't think Nate could love. Why then if Nate wasn't interested in sex was he there?

*

Ray was even older than Nate, which Brad thought must be some sort of cosmic joke. Nate explained that that was fairly typical of the vampires made around the Spanish Inquisition. He dressed like a nu!rave skater punk and constantly drank orange soda.

"Can you even taste that?" Brad asked one time while Nate was at some event it was better for Brad not to attend and Ray had popped up unannounced with the box set of Back to the Future and a bag of candy he couldn't eat.

"Nope," Ray said and took another slurp.

"What's the point then?"

Ray shrugged. "It's the impression of it."

Brad breathed out. He thought very carefully about why he shouldn't ask what he was going to ask, and then he asked it anyway. "Is that why Nate is with me? The impression of it?"

Ray goggled at him. "No fool, he loves you." When Brad didn't respond he shook his head. "Nate has NEVER, and I mean NEVER, as in the number of times Glenn Beck has gotten laid, taken a human lover. He thinks it's unethical or some shit. It's all those crazy Calvinist notions he's got."

"I was unaware," Brad replied.

Ray snorted. "I'll bet. You know homeboy was born on the same day, the very same day, that Martin Luther tacked his 556 theses on the door?"

"It was only 95."

"Well that's 96 too many," Ray replied, gesturing wildly with the soda can. Brad rolled his eyes.

*

That night when Nate came home they fucked in the shower, water just a little cooler than Brad liked to accommodate Nate's body temperature. It was good sex, Brad had had a lot of bad sex, and he would never mistake what he had with Nate for that, but there was something missing. After almost three months, he felt he had the right to want it. He was starting to fear the immortal in Nate wouldn't give it to him.

"Do you feel emotions?" he asked, just before the sun rose. He found himself accommodating Nate's hours these days, although he imagined that Nate didn't like it. Nate wanted him to be as human as he could be, in the sun and with people. Brad had always needed those things less than others.

Nate laughed. "Less than you do." And then he ducked his head. "Although you hide them well."

Brad had never thought of himself as an emotional person.

"But you are," Nate replied, seemingly reading his thoughts. "No, only your face."

There would never be another, Brad was certain of this. If Nate did not turn him, if Nate did not...he would die wanting Nate. He wished he didn't know that with such surety.

Even when Nate was in the room with him he found himself asking, where are you? He knew how to be what Nate needed, but he didn't know how to be what Nate wanted.

*

Nate had a job. To be useful, to amass wealth, to...well, Brad didn't know why. Nate liked being thought of as an eccentric CEO. Brad thought that might have been why more than anything. He wasn't eccentric. He was so wonderfully normal, so normal he was irregular again.

The job occasionally meant other people wanted to harm Nate, other humans and other vampires. Nate was not an easy target. Brad found out from Ray that Nate was the only reason that Henri Navarre survived the St. Bartholomew's Day Massacre. But people thought Brad was -- the weakness of Nate's to be exploited.

Brad killed two of them, both vampires, with a broken pool cue from Nate's billiard room, and he finished off the third in front of Nate with a flambe torch and an aerosol spray can from under the sink. It left a horrible charred mess all over Nate's floor, but Nate's eyes were a blue so bright it was almost white.

"This is what turns you on?" Brad asked.

"I like...competence," Nate replied as if savoring the word.

Brad shoved him back against the fridge, almost unsure if Nate would let him, but Nate let him pretend that he actually was the shorter pencil-pusher who had muscles for aesthetic accessory purposes rather than out of necessity, and in that moment he was exactly that. He took Nate's mouth, careless even when his fangs dropped down, and sucked on his tongue. He bit down on the tip, not enough to hurt, but enough for Nate to jerk against him.

And then when he got them back to Nate's room, he took Nate altogether. He pinned him to the mattress and fucked him open with his fingers until Nate was twisting and begging, artificial sweat shining across his chest and throat. He ignored his stiff cock altogether, focusing his mouth on Nate's nipples and the grooves in stomach while his fingers pushed in and out of him. He liked watching Nate's hole spread around the knuckles of two fingers and then three while Nate's eyelashes fluttered in dazed euphoria. In that moment Nate was more human, and Brad more vampire -- taking what he wanted, making Nate beg for all that he would deign to give him. When he pushed inside Nate, Nate inhaled. The first breath he'd taken in over four hundred years. Brad nearly shook apart then.

He paused, poised above Nate's cooler body, imagining that it was warming up the longer Brad was inside him and over him. Brad traced a hand over Nate's lower lip, the sinful mouth he remembered even as he thought he was going to die freezing and alone in Basrah.

"Come on," Nate said, voice goading. Brad started moving, thrusting so hard into Nate that breath was exhaled again in a whoosh. His eyes glowed under the seam of his lids. Nate never flushed with arousal unless he was feeding, but Brad had other clues by now. The way his fingers flexed, the way he pressed his cheek against the pillow as if to hide his vulnerable expression.

Brad made Nate come first and then while he was pulsing between them, seed slicking both their bellies, Brad bit down just above Nate's collarbone. He broke the skin and Nate's blood rushed into his mouth. It felt like the glare off a window on a bright day or the shock of jumping into cold water or over-stimulation after orgasm. It was just too much. Brad came shoved so far into Nate he was chasing after that breath and it hurt.

It was a long time before he came back to himself. Nate had shifted and dumped Brad off of him, going to the bathroom and coming back to clean them both up. Nate's eyes were back to the green that was supernatural in and off itself.

"You know, I never wanted a pet human," he said softly.

"What does that mean?" Brad rolled over and groaned, his back and thighs protesting even though he'd been the one doing the fucking.

"I fear I'm terrible at communication but...don't feel like you have to fit my lifestyle to stay," Nate replied, tossing a washcloth at him.

"I didn't..." Brad started, but he had. He'd thought that Nate hadn't wanted him as he was. And now he realized Nate had thought Brad had only wanted him because of the vampire. "Ugh, I owe Ray fifty bucks."

"Why?"

"He said you loved me," Brad replied sleepily as Nate settled in under the covers next to him.

"Ray's often right in a...round about sort of a way."

"I think that's a diplomatic way of saying even an idiot can find his way home occasionally." Brad chuckled.


End file.
